Defying Logic
by Emiliya Wolfe
Summary: When Septima Vector tries to tame her owl, she finds out that animals aren't as reasonable as numbers.


Septima Vector climbed up the many stairs to the Owlery, lifting her burnt orange robes a little so they wouldn't brush the floor. It was late, too late for students to be up and about, writing letters here and there. Perfect for what she had in mind.

There weren't many owls when she entered the small circular room — they were all off hunting or exploring. They were nocturnal creatures, after all. But there was one particular specimen that caught her eye, a brown owl so small that its head was bigger than its body.

The owl chirped upon seeing her, half-flying, half-running along the floor of the Owlery to come to meet her. She held out a finger — covered with the necessary protection described in the manual — but the owl simply hopped onto her foot and squeaked some more.

Septima sighed, taking her owl training manual out of her pocket and scanning the instructions.

It was going to be a long night.

Pythagoras was only two months old, but _The Beginner's Guide to Owl Ownership: From Egg to Nest_ suggested that young owls be taught to carry parcels towards the end of their fledging period. Septima had rigorously ticked off the days until Pythagorus's legs were exactly the right width to be able to hold three inches of parchment without the weight affecting their growth.

Yesterday had been that day. And today, he would learn the basic commands known to all wizarding owls. Professor Kettleburn had offered to help, as he did with all the new owls, but Septima was adamant that she would be able to do it. After all, the only thing she needed was logic and the right book. Professor Kettleburn had laughed. She would prove him wrong.

She placed a small owl treat on her finger.

'Up,' she commanded, as if the young owl was a broomstick.

Instead, Pythagoras flew up to her shoulder and nipped her ear.

Septima sighed again and pointed to her finger. 'Up.'

The little owl cooed, imitating the pigeons that inhabited Hogwarts' rooftops.

'Let's try something else,' Septima said, thinking aloud.

She placed the owl treat on the table, and sure enough, Pythagoras flew down to nibble at the food. Quickly, she rolled up her scroll and gently tied it with a small piece of twine, having weighed them out precisely in her office.

But when she tried to tie the parchment to the owl's leg, Pythagoras hopped away, cooing at her again.

'This isn't a game!' she snapped, even though she knew the animal couldn't understand her.

Taking a deep breath, she placed another treat on her finger, and held out her hand, offering the little owl a benevolent smile. Pythagoras flew up to his makeshift perch, and stuck his leg out for balance as he ate, exactly as the textbook had predicted. She gave herself a mental pat on the back, clumsily attempting to tighten the string around the little owl's leg.

'Ow!' she cried as Pythagoras gave her finger a peck. The treat had already disappeared into his belly.

Pythagoras hooted, parroting her cry of pain. She scowled at him, before reminding herself to be patient.

'Now what?' she asked herself, reading the pages of her manual.

Apparently, the way to have an owl come back to you was to fuss over it when it came back, creating a bond that would make the owl always want to return to their owner. It also gave suggestions on which distances to cover the first few days.

'Hmmph,' Septima harrumphed. She was sure that she could create a silent bond with her owl, one that didn't have to embarrass her at the same time.

Turning to the window, she waved her wand to create a trail of shimmering gold hoops for Pythagoras to fly through. The owl hooted with joy — she had read that gold attracted wizarding owls much like magpies — and started its journey outwards.

'Come back to the Owlery afterwards!' she called out.

Owls were intelligent beings. The knowledge of locations was passed down from generation to generation and this owl's mother had seen a lot over her travels for Hogwarts.

At first, it went well. Pythagoras flew gracefully through each hoop and seemed to be heading back to her. But then disaster struck. He swivelled his head, golden eyes reflecting the shimmering magic, and he flew 'round and 'round in circles, never stopping.

'Pythagoras!' Septima cried, to no avail. The little owl didn't even seem to register her voice.

She disbanded some of the hoops, making the gold magic lead straight back into the Owlery, but Pythagoras kept going, his eyes trained on each one. Sometimes he would simply loop between the hoops.

Septima rushed back in from the window, grabbing her manual and rifling through the pages. There was nothing on this happening, nothing at all. Briefly, she wondered whether she should call Professor Kettleburn, before the little owl tired himself out and plummeted to a nasty death below.

But then a sentence caught her eye.

 _Change your tone of voice to something more affectionate, repeating the same words over and over. The owl will sense the mothering aspect of the owner and instinctively return. Once this process has been repeated for ten days, your owl will have formed a bond strong enough to return whenever needed._

The cooing at younglings with meaningless, nonsensical words. The one thing Professor Septima Vector, who had earned several distinctions for her new uses of Arithmancy to improve spells and potions, hated above all else.

Baby talk.

It was worth a try.

She ran back to the window, waving towards the little bird.

'Pythagoras!' she called, her voice three tones higher than normal. 'Come here, boy.' She leant over the window as the owl swivelled his head to look at her. 'Come here, come here! Yes, I'm talking to you, you clever little owl.'

Slowly, but surely, she was reeling him in. Eventually, he alighted on the windowsill next to her and she ruffled his feathers.

'Who's the best little owl in the world?' she asked. 'You are! You are! Here, have another treat you little munchkin.'

And that was the day that Septima Vector, mathematician extraordinaire, swallowed her pride and admitted that not everything could be calculated logic.

* * *

 **Word Count: 1054**

 **QLFC Captain's Prompt: Write about someone known to be stoic/cold/aloof using baby-talk with a pet.**

 **Hook a ship - (word) parrot**

 **Ferris wheel - (genre) friendship, (animal) owl, (style) third person, (colour) brown, (action) reading, (emotion) determined**

 **Tattoo Booth - Left wrist: (action) waving; Swallow (trait) gentle, (word) benevolent**

 **Hedge maze - south corner: (word) incredible**

 **Hamilton mania - Becoming a parent - (plot point) trying something for the first time, optional: (word) predict, (word) confidence, (word) climb**

 **Character appreciation: 5. (Animal) Owl**

 **Disney: Character 5. Write about someone with a kind heart, despite their harsh demeanor.**

 **Buttons: O.3. Book**

 **Sophie's Shelf, v. 68 Prompt: (restriction) Only one female character**

 **Emy's Emporium: I.2. (setting) Hogwarts, S.2. Write a fic that takes place at night**


End file.
